


A decision deferred is not a decision avoided

by spiffycups



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffycups/pseuds/spiffycups
Summary: When I wrote the first chapter of Ebbs and Flows of the Tide, I was intrigued by the idea of "What if Sivagami did not adopt Baahubali that night?"





	A decision deferred is not a decision avoided

Sivagami turned to Bijjaladeva. “The child is crying.”

“Sivagami,  _a_ child is crying”, he corrected. “ _Our_  son is sleeping peacefully.” His face was impassive. Taking a deep breath, she searched his face for any mercy she could find. Crushing the last piece of hope her heart held, she turned her back on the Queen’s chambers and walked to the Court chambers. 

An emergency meeting of the Council was held well past midnight. As Sivagami nursed her son against her chest, Bijjaladeva stood beside her chair and addressed the durbar. 

“We inform you with immeasurable grief that our Queen has passed away tonight. She delivered a boy unto the kingdom, and Amarendra Baahubali will be raised in accordance with Kshatriya Dharmam. Until the Prince comes of age, Sivagami Devi will be the acting regent.”

“Long Live Rajamatha Sivagami Devi!” The cry echoed and built up across the vast hall.

—————————— 

The boys grew up as cousins, acknowledging each other, but never truly friends. They were trained separately, taught separately, and they ate separately, but whether it was by design or by coincidence, no one could tell.

“Bhalla, do you like Amarendra?” asked Sivagami over dinner one day. 

“He is my cousin. I don’t love him, nor do I hate him, Mother.” came the honest reply. 

“Never get attached to any one Bhalla. That is tantamount to stabbing your own heart!” laughed Bijjaladeva, drunk and swaying in his seat.

Bhalla looked back into his own plate, refusing to give an answer.

—————————— 

“Your Highness, do you like the Prince?”, asked Kattappa between archery lessons.

“Sure. We are family, I suppose.” smiled Baahubali.

“Every man needs to look out for himself, sire.” said Kattappa quietly.

“Who looks out for you?” asked Amarendra curiously.

“The kingdom looks after orphans like me.”

“I am an orphan too! Mahishmati looks after me then.” said Baahubali confidently.

——————————

Sivagami sent Baahubali and Kattappa to check on the nation. Amarendra wooed Devasena, and with the blessings of the rulers, married her. The invaders were defeated, and without any justifications or objections, Bhallaladeva became King and Baahubali became General. 

Devasena’s baby shower saw the Rajamatha gifting her silks and exotic fruits, Kattappa gifting her the promise of being a grandparent to the baby, Bhallaladeva gifting her the time of her husband, and Amarendra standing silent while she demanded he gift her the title of Queen.

“You are a Prince too! You carry the blood of the Queen. Mahishmati has no Queen now, only a regent. Not only is it my desire to see you as King, it is your duty! Have you forgotten your Kshatriya Dharmam?” seethed Devasena. Her questions were met with silence.

—————————— 

General Sethupathy insulted Devasena, and then groped her on the steps. She cut off his fingers with his blade, and was led to the Court in irons. She systematically insulted everything about the kingdom and its rulers, and then was chastised by her husband for not cutting off Sethupathy’s head. This mistake was soon rectified by Amarendra himself, and Sivagami Devi screamed at the boy she did not raise. 

“Has your wife inspired you to reach for the throne?” she lashed out.

Before Baahubali could answer, Kattappa marched up to the dais. He laid his sword on the ground, and knelt to Baahubali with his fist across his heart. 

“My dynasty is bound to serve the King of Mahishmati. I have lived in limbo these last three decades, serving a regent. I was living a lie in the expectation that truth would out. The regent did not and will not return the power to the true king. My duty requires me to bow to the King. Your wish is my command, Your Highness. I am your servant.”

His words started an avalanche that the sentinels could not block. The people gathered outside the palace doors soon received word of what had happened inside, and they rushed in, believing Baahubali had reclaimed the throne.

Amidst the pandemonium, Bijjaladeva had staggered to his feet and laboriously made his way to the throne. Pointing his staff at Amarendra, he shouted, “Sixty years I have waited for this throne! Sixty years I have laid quiet, accepting my father’s words and his father’s words, and I will not now be cheated. My son, my marvelous son who is rightfully the King, who has ruled over Mahishmati all these years, will NOT be ousted by that scoundrel! Scoundrel, bastard, whore’s orphan - you shall not decorate this throne! Over my dead body will he climb up here!” 

By the time he had finished his speech, he was gasping for breath. In shock, he looked down at his chest, where rivulets of blood were running down his torso from Kattappa’s blade. 

“I serve Mahishmati’s Queens as equally as I do the King. No one calls my King, or his Mother any of those obscenities that you just did. The price of disrespect is blood. Beg him for forgiveness, or I will behead you.” Kattappa’s tone shocked the hall’s melee into silence. 

“Beg him? Beg that useless leech, that greedy…” He sputtered and coughed blood as Kattappa slit his throat expertly. As he turned back to the hall, he found himself two feet away from Bhallaladeva. 

Bhalla had run down the dais as soon as Kattappa had approached his father. He had raised his sword and tensed his torso as he prepared to swing his blade, but was pulled back by Amarendra. Despite not being armed, Amarendra had improvised, picked up the iron shackles that had been clapped on Devasena, and bound Bhalla with them. 

Sivagami Devi stood there, in the centre of this battle. Her husband killed by her servant, her nephew being cheered for King by her people, her son humiliated and shackled in front of her very eyes. Friendless, alone, she stood there. Not one person had spoken for her. Her decisions had been made for her, by the people who had pretended to love her. Her future now hung in the balance. 

 _‘Blood must be spilled in this Court’_ , the astrologers had said to her a hundred times.  _‘Always when there is an infant on the dais, blood will be spilled. The curse will be with you in this court forever, Sivagami. You cannot run.’_

Sivagami Devi could not run. She could only watch as Amarendra Baahubali reclaimed the throne, and she could only think, “God let the curse die with me.”


End file.
